


Keep the Demons at Bay

by Knitwritezombie (Missa_G)



Series: Finding Peace [2]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Empath Ianto, Ianto needs a hug, Jack Needs a Hug, M/M, Post-Episode: s01e05 Small Worlds, Self Harm, Suicide, hell everyone needs a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:40:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23757010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missa_G/pseuds/Knitwritezombie
Summary: "You sir, can at least find your peace. I'm still looking for mine."
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Series: Finding Peace [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1711411
Kudos: 58





	Keep the Demons at Bay

Ianto was working alone in the Archives well after midnight when the gunshot resounded through the hub. On pure reaction, he typed a few keystrokes that put the hub into lockdown and removed his gun from his desk, not registering the something that drifted across his mind (he’d kept himself so closed off since London). Leaving his jacket hanging on the back of his chair, Ianto silently crept out of the Archives, entering the main hub that glowed softly under red-orange warning lights.

With practiced ease he moved quietly through the hub towards Tosh's station, constantly scanning for anything or anyone out of place (the computer in the archive was networked to the hub, but not connected to the CCTV network). There didn't seem to be anything, but he remained cautious as he called up the CCTV display and rapidly scanned the last few minutes of footage.

He closed his eyes and let out a breath when he found that the internal cameras confirmed that they hadn’t been infiltrated. The tension went out of him as he reset the hub, lifting the lockdown and sending the all clear to the others (who wouldn't have been happy to been disturbed in the middle of the night anyway) before clearing his weapon and flicking the safety on before setting it further aside at Tosh's station.

On the screen Ianto watched the Captain's head recoil as a single gunshot impacted the soft flesh under his chin.

He should have expected it. Ianto had seen the looks on everyone's faces when they'd returned earlier that afternoon, and they were all projecting emotions so strongly that Ianto didn't have to let his guard down to sense them. Disbelief and anger warred for dominance in Owen, Gwen and Tosh, and the Captain wore a look of deep despair though he clearly believed he had done right. He had gone straight to his office and closed the door. Gwen had locked herself in the conference room for a time and a tense silence returned to the hub.

Things had just begun to return to a semblance of normalcy, or whatever passed for it at Torchwood 3. It seemed to Ianto that though everyone wasn't ready to grant forgiveness, they were at least willing to move forward and let Ianto get on with his job. For his part, he was trying to stop hiding in the shadows, but it had been part of his nature for so long (too long), he wasn't sure he was succeeding.

But Owen had stopped snarling and Gwen was smiling at him again. Tosh was as quietly there as always, with a soft thank-you or a light touch, and though she couldn't brew coffee to save her skin, Ianto did appreciate her perfectly brewed green tea. And the Captain, well, he was the Captain.

Ianto's gaze turned to the Captain's office. He knew what had happened, after reading through Gwen's hastily assembled report. The Captain had sacrificed a young girl to save the world. Though Gwen had made it clear that the girl, Jasmine, had been eager and willing to go, Gwen didn't seem to understand or accept the Captain's decision.

It seemed that maybe the Captain was having second thoughts himself.

With a sigh, Ianto turned to the janitor's closet and retrieved his supplies before mounting the stairs to the Captain's office. It wasn't the first time he'd had to clean up this kind of mess, and he was sure it wouldn't be the last.

Ianto found the Captain sprawled in his chair, his gun still dangling in his limp right hand. He dealt with that first, clearing the gun and setting it on the Captain's desk. Ianto had learned his lesson after the first time, when the Captain had nearly shot him in the first moments post-resurrection.

After tucking his tie between the buttons of his shirt, he set to cleaning the blood and gore from the wall behind the Captain's desk. Ianto wondered why the Captain insisted on continuing to try to kill himself. What kept driving the man to a futile action that only left behind a mess and resulted in a migraine? And what right did the Captain have in asking Ianto to live (if not in so many words) when he took any opportunity to try to end his own life?

Ianto didn't look up at the shuddering gasp that sounded behind him, followed by a quiet expression of pain. Ianto exchanged the bloodied latex gloves for a clean pair, dropping the used ones into the bio-hazard bag. He sealed it, trying not to think about the bits of brain and skull he'd just picked off the wall and out of the carpet. He was reaching for cleaning solutions when the Captain spoke.

"When are you going to start telling me to clean up my own mess, Ianto?" His voice was tired.

"The next time you leave a weevil in the SUV, sir," Ianto replied dryly, applying a familiar formula to scrub out the blood.

The Captain grunted a laugh. His chair squeaked as he sat up. "I didn't realize you were still here," he commented.

Ianto focused on what he was doing. "I was in the Archives," Ianto answered, scrubbing.

"Don't you ever go home?"

Only when I have to, Ianto didn't answer. "Of course." Home was a cold, empty flat that offered little comfort. He showered there, and kept his clothes there, but not much else. There was always plenty of work to be done and Ianto still didn't sleep much, so he spent most of his time at the hub.

The Captain made a noise that indicated he didn't quite believe Ianto. "What's that?"

Ianto heard the Captain rummaging around on his desk, and became aware of a quiet beeping. "That'd be the lockdown alert and the all clear message sent to your mobile, sir," Ianto explained.

"We went into lockdown?" the beeping stopped as the Captain retrieved his messages.

"I heard the gunshot," Ianto said by way of explanation. "I reacted on instinct."

"Good instincts," the Captain murmured. "Anyone check in?"

Ianto shook his head. "No, sir." Not surprising, really. Owen was probably well into his cups and would be ignoring anything work related. Gwen, hopefully, was with Rhys and had sense to restrain herself once the all clear was issued. It was odd though, that Tosh hadn't called in.

Or not, Ianto realized. His phone was in his jacket pocket in the Archives, and his headset charging at his station in Reception.

Just then, the Captain's mobile rang. "Hi, Tosh," he answered. "No, we're good. Yeah, he's here. No, just a misunderstanding. Stay home, Tosh, we're fine. Yeah. Yes. Goodnight, Tosh." The last was said with a laugh as the Captain clicked his phone off. "Tosh said you need to go home."

"I'm sure she did," Ianto said. The blood stains were easily coming off the wall, and Ianto paused in his scrubbing to apply a solution to the carpet to soak.

"Hm." The chair squeaked again as the Captain sat back. "Why are you still here, Ianto?"

"Work to be done, sir." Because I have nowhere else to go, he didn't say. Because this is the only place I have left where I feel useful, where I feel needed. I can be ignored, but I know I'm needed, and that's why I stay. He kept his gaze on the rapidly fading mess.

"There's nothing here that couldn't wait until tomorrow," the Captain said.

"Yes, sir," Ianto agreed automatically.

"You're humouring me, aren't you?"

"Would I do that, sir?" he answered dryly.

"I have no doubt." The Captain's response was equally dry.

Ianto heard the Captain rise, and the water cooler glug as he filled a glass. "Ianto?"

"Captain." Finished with the wall, Ianto had moved onto the carpet, thankful that the dark color helped mask some of the stains from the Captain's previous attempts.

"Nothing. I'm going for a shower. Can I trouble you for coffee, when you have a minute?"

"Of course."

There was a moment before the Captain moved toward the hatch that led to his quarters. Ianto knew he spent little time down there; he seemed to sleep as little as Ianto himself.

The Captain confused him. One moment the man could be all flirting and smiles, and the next willing to sacrifice a young girl to save the fate of the Earth. Ianto had been convinced that the Captain was going to shoot him just a few weeks ago, and yet he seemed to have moved past that quickly; he was doing a fair job of pretending at trusting Ianto again, at least (he could check – he could so easily reach out and-).

Ianto didn't want to think about the kiss. He hadn't mentioned it, decided to let it go, but the Captain could have let him die after Lisa'd thrown him across the hub. But he'd returned to consciousness with the Captain's hand lightly caressing his throat and lips pressed to his own in a way that could not be confused with resuscitation. And then he had turned right around and threatened Ianto again.

Ianto wouldn't deny that he found the Captain attractive. He was also being honest when he had said he didn't care about the Captain's sexual orientation (and there was something to be said for his rejection of labels). He didn't think it mattered. It wasn't really any of his business until the Captain decided to breach security and bring people to the hub – and he really didn't see that happening.

The flirting was such a part of the Captain's character that Ianto responded with his dry humour, which kept the Captain in good spirits. Truth be told, Ianto appreciated the attention some days, knowing that someone was in some way interested in him.

He shoved those thoughts aside as he finished scrubbing the blood out of the floor. Ianto dumped the cleaning supplies back into the bucket and stripped off the soiled latex gloves into a bin bag. Rising from the floor, tiredness seemed to suddenly sink in, making his limbs feel heavy and his mind sluggish.

Ianto gathered the cleaning supplies and headed down the stairs. He reached the bottom and missed the last step. The bucket of supplies went flying as he threw his arms out to catch himself as he fell forward. He landed hard on one knee and his hands, air rushing out of his lungs.

Maybe it was time to go home and try to sleep, Ianto thought as he waited on his hands and knee to get his breath back. He was exhausted, and his whole body ached. He was pushing it too far if he was falling off stairs (there was a time he had gone a lot longer with much less sleep). But his sleep was haunted by memories and dreams of things that hadn't occurred, so that he got no rest even when he was able to sleep. He'd gone too long on little snatches that his body wasn't acclimating to a regular sleep cycle.

Owen hadn't mocked him when he'd slipped Ianto something to help him sleep – in fact, it was the most sympathetic Ianto had ever seen the doctor (which explained why he no longer worked with patients). But they only made the dreams worse and he had thrown them out after the first night.

Ianto pulled himself to his feet with a hiss and a muttered curse. He swayed slightly and staggered, lightheaded from standing too fast. Regaining his equilibrium, he limped off to retrieve the bucket and get the coffee started.

**

Ianto jerked upright at a light touch on his shoulders. He'd sat at the small table for just a moment while he was waiting for the coffee to brew.

"Sorry," the Captain said sheepishly from behind him, not lifting his hands from Ianto's shoulders. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Ianto hadn't even realized he'd nodded off. "Did you need something, sir?"

"Just came to check on the coffee," the Captain answered.

Ianto felt a squeeze to his shoulders as he made to get up. He kept his seat as the Captain puttered around behind him at the coffee maker. In a moment, his mug was deposited onto the table in front of him.

His hands stung as he wrapped them around the hot mug, palms tender from catching his weight against the grilled floor of the hub. Ianto stared into his coffee (black) as the Captain dropped into the chair across from him.

"Can I ask you something, Ianto?"

He risked a glance up at the Captain. "Certainly, sir." The other man's gaze was haunted, blue eyes normally bright dimmed to an almost grey. There were dark circles under the Captain's eyes, which Ianto knew from experience would be gone by morning. He looked like a man physically exhausted, alone, and utterly spirit weary. Ianto could sympathize.

The Captain leaned back in his chair, looking only slightly more relaxed without his regular armour. Gone were the military style shirt and braces – the Captain had appeared in the kitchen in just a vest and trousers (braces hanging down over his hips), hair still slightly damp from his shower. Just as he'd appeared a couple of nights previous, startling Ianto out of tracking down odd weather patterns on a hunch.

"Why are you here?"

"Tonight, sir, or in general?"

The Captain waved one hand as he drank from his own coffee (milk, one sugar).

"Where else would I be, Captain?" He answered both questions. "You lot need someone to keep you sorted out, and that's what I'm good at." He shrugged, cradling his coffee in his hands, yet to drink. "Get away driving, cover stories, keeping the Archives up to date and organized so you can find things again when you need them. That's what you hired me for, sir." He stayed because he was needed, even if no-one else saw it. He stayed because on some days he quite honestly enjoyed it. He stayed because the Captain would probably self destruct if -

Ianto blinked. The Captain was forever confusing him, even inside his own head.

"Hunting weevils?"

"That's just a perk."

The Captain chuckled, though the humour didn't seem to reach his eyes. Ianto watched a bit more closely, noticed faint lines of pain around the Captain's dull eyes, saw how he was holding himself – post resurrection migraine, Ianto remembered. The Captain hardly complained of them, but Ianto knew what to look for (especially after that time with Owen and the saw). Ianto knew the headache would fade in a few hours, but the Captain was usually incredibly tetchy until then.

"Can I ask you something, Captain?" Ianto asked after a moment of quiet.

The Captain nodded around a mouthful of coffee.

"It's been awhile, sir, since the last time. Why tonight?" There had to be some reason beyond losing the girl for the Captain to decide to try to seek oblivion, however temporary.

"Something happened that reminded me just how alone I am in this world. One more person I've known is gone, one more person I loved that I couldn't protect or save. I just wanted a few moments to escape that."

Estelle, Ianto's memory supplied. That, or the Captain had been consorting with pedophiles. Gwen had mentioned the older woman in her report, that she'd come into contact with what they had decided to term 'mara'. Gwen had left out the Captain's association with her. "I'm sorry, sir." Ianto said softly.

"So am I."

Ianto played with his mug. The thought of more coffee made his stomach churn. He'd been practically living off of coffee and antacid tablets. It stung, but the heat of the mug against his hands felt good. Was it this that the Captain craved in the moments of escape? The overwhelming sense of life when he returned? Even if it hurt, knowing that it hurt could be something, couldn't it?

His hands tightened around the mug as he fought the impulse to chew on his thumbnail, his one nervous/stressed/worried habit that he seemed never able to shake. Ianto stared at the ripples in the dark liquid, lulling himself into a daze until the Captain spoke again, breaking the silence.

"Something on your mind, Ianto?"

"Sir?" Ianto met the Captain's gaze.

The Captain wore a faint expression of amusement, one eyebrow cocked in curiosity. "Look's like there's something just waiting on the tip of your tongue, some beautiful Welsh words just dying to fall out of your mouth."

Ianto's whole body ached. His wrists were beginning to throb from the impact with the floor, pain radiating up to his elbows and one shoulder. All Ianto really wanted was to find some way of getting the rest his body craved. Even if he didn't feel like he deserved to begin to heal, he wasn't going to be any good to anyone if he was so tired he was falling down stairs or tripping over his own feet.

He shook his head slowly. "Nothing, sir," he said, dropping his gaze back to the coffee – the only thing capable of getting him moving at that point. "Just tired," he muttered. So fucking tired, he thought.

"Still not sleeping?"

Ianto looked up again. "Not all of us have the luxury of finding a temporary escape through suicide, sir." Dry and sarcastic, the words were gone before Ianto could stop them. "I-" he started to apologize.

"No." The Captain held up a hand. "That's only fair, I suppose." He scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed. "You think this is horribly hypocritical of me, don't you?"

Ianto shrugged. " You can escape that way, sir, killing yourself," he said slowly, trying to get his muddled thoughts together in some kind of coherent order. "You get your few moments peace for the price of a bullet and a migraine. I could find mine, I suppose, in a bottle, or in pills, anything to stop the voices and the images."

He took a breath. "Whatever keeps the demons at bay, right?" Ianto finally drank from his coffee. It was rich and warm and slightly bitter – perfect – and it made his stomach burn with the promise of regretting it later. "Pills make things worse, and I'm a terrible drunk," Ianto admitted (he was never doing that again). "So I work until I can hardly see straight and hope to pass out for a few hours without dreaming. You sir, can at least find your peace. I'm still looking for mine."

It felt good to be honest with the Captain at last, after a few weeks of polite inquiries, as to why Ianto was in the hub all hours. He hadn't expected it.

From the look on his face, neither had the Captain. Ianto had never seen the Captain speechless before.

Sleepily amused, Ianto tried to rise from the table to trade his coffee out for milk (they were nearly out anyway, and maybe it would settle his stomach some), but winced and couldn't quite contain a grunt of pain as his knee refused to cooperate.

“Ianto?”

“’S nothing,” he responded, slowly flexing and extending his leg from the knee, slowly working the sharp pain to a dull throb in the hopes he’d at least be able to limp to his car.

"Nothing?" The Captain rose from his seat and came to stand beside Ianto. "That doesn't look like 'nothing,' Ianto."

Ianto followed the Captain's gaze. His knee was a bit swollen and turning a lovely shade of purple-blue through the rip in his trousers he'd not noticed before. "Just needs some ice," Ianto said.

"Let me try something else."

The Captain's lips covered Ianto's. For a moment, he was too stunned to move, then found himself responding, pressing the kiss deeper. The Captain's hands lightly covered Ianto's neck, thumbs stroking his stubbled jaw. Ianto's hands found their way to the Captain's hips.

The aches melted away and Ianto began to feel some of his weariness fade. He realized what was happening and slid his hands to the Captain's chest and gently pushed him away. Gwen hadn’t been subtle enough in her report about Charys for Ianto to not pick up on what the Captain had done when he’d kissed the girl possessed by the alien sex-fiend. And Ianto wasn’t too asleep on his feet to not recall it, either.

Memory flooded him, the sensation of flying and blackness. Of being infused with something unnamable and unknowable, awakening to the Captain's lips and a gesture of quiet. An utter sensation of peace for just a moment before reality came crashing back down as Lisa screamed. This wasn't the first time the Captain had done this for him.

“Stop,” he said softly. Idiot, he didn’t say aloud. The Captain didn’t have the energy to spare, and Ianto didn’t feel he was worth the offering. He met the Captain’s soft blue eyes. “Why?” Why drain himself over a couple of bumps and bruises? Why expend the energy to heal someone who honestly felt that he deserved some of his suffering, no matter how much he longed for it to end?

“Because I need you here,” the Captain said softly. “I need you, whole and healthy and ready to chase down weevils or whatever else comes through the Rift. Because I can and I want to, because you don’t deserve to suffer alone and in silence, even if only nursing bruises from falling off the stairs.”

Ianto blushed. He had hoped the Captain had still been in the shower. “Why me?”

The Captain sighed and took a step forward, standing between Ianto's thighs. His hands fell on Ianto's shoulders, forcing Ianto to look up. “You’re a steady presence, Ianto Jones. I feel like I can lean on you and you won’t break. And I need that.”

Ianto didn’t think he’d ever get the Captain to be so straight with him ever again. He didn’t do personal revelations. But he was admitting something that Ianto had already known, on some level. The Captain needed to be tended, needed to be looked after by someone, if only so he could feel that he wasn't totally alone in the world.

“I like you. You’ve got a wicked sense of humour, you make a mean cup of coffee, and you look damn fine in a suit.” He leered. “And I bet you look even better out of it.”

Ianto blushed and he found himself being hauled up out of the chair and kissed again. Just a kiss, no influx of energy that shouldn't have been there. He responded eagerly, opening his mouth at the Captain's urging, tongues intermingling. Ianto felt strong fingers at the nape of his neck, tangling in his hair. His own hands clutched somewhat desperately at the Captain's waist, pulling him closer, trying to soak up as much contact as he could through layers of clothes. It had been so long since anyone had touched him –

The Captain broke the kiss but didn't pull away. "I would love to take this further," the Captain said softly against Ianto's mouth. "But you're not ready, and I'm, quite frankly, not up to it."

Ianto couldn't help but smile at the double entendre. The man was dead an hour ago. He could still see the earmarks of physical pain in the Captain's features. And he was right – Ianto wasn't sure he was ready. It was too soon after Lisa's death to carry on in the manner the Captain intended. He liked the man, respected him, found him attractive, but Ianto's heart was still fragile and he wasn't sure he could do a casual fling.

And he doubted it would remain casual for long. Ianto knew himself too well for that. He gave his heart over too easily to trust he could keep it casual. Oddly enough, the idea of being with a man didn't scare him (and it wasn't like he'd never considered it before). But it would give him someone to look after, and he could do that. Needed to be needed, that was Ianto. The Captain, it seemed, needed to have people around to remind him of his humanity, to give him a means of being grounded – the Captain needed people to care about him, and Ianto could do that.

Already had been doing for a year, if he’d let himself admit it.

"What do you have in mind, sir?"

"You're going to have to lose that 'sir,' you know."

"Yes, sir," Ianto answered with a tired smile. The Captain – Jack, Ianto mentally corrected himself, kissed him again, more chastely.

"I have lots of things in mind," Jack teased, pulling away. "But for tonight, only a bed. And a warm body. I’m not going to pressure you into anything, Ianto," Jack said gently. "But I don't much feel like being alone tonight, and you really look like you could use some sleep. I promise not to take advantage of you. Tonight," he finished with a wink. "Let's keep the demons at bay a bit longer." Sincerity and an ageless sort-of wisdom shone out of Jack's eyes.

Ianto woke a few hours later to solid, warm cotton under his cheek and fingers slipping nimbly through the hair at the base of his neck, feeling more rested than he had in months.


End file.
